“He is still wonderfully Apollo. Call him please? Straight away. He has the same number he’s had for years.”
“As soon as we hang up.”
“Good. I’ll be out for a visit as soon as possible. I must see you in person. I am so happy you’re home.”
“Me too. I will let you know what happens with Apollo’s bakery friend.”
“Please. Talk soon, mon frère.”
“Talk soon.”
After ending the call with Lucien, I lie on the bed, staring at Apollo’s number in my contacts. I shouldn’t be nervous. It’s been ten years, and I am a grown man. This is a job contact and perhaps, some friendship. I just have to ignore my raging hormones every time I even think about Apollo Onassis. You would have thought the impact faded by now, but apparently, I am more starved for romance than I thought.
After a deep breath, I press the button and wait as it rings, the adrenaline in my body making me almost lightheaded.
“Hello?”
Oh, fuck me. His voice.
“Hello?” Apollo repeats.
“Apollo. It’s Felix Marchand.”
“Oh my god, Felix! Hi. How are you?”
The affection in his voice nearly undoes me. “I’m well. Home. How are you?”
“Great, man. I’m so happy to hear from you. Welcome home.”
Okay, he’s way sweeter ten years later. I was just an annoying teen the last time he saw me.
“Thank you so much. Lucien said I should call you. You may have an employment contact for me?”
“Yeah, yeah. Briar. He’s really excited to talk to you. He’s been looking for someone with fancy skills like yours for a while.”
“Is that not a common skill in Miami?”
“It is, but he says he has trouble attracting talent because there’s not prestige and the pay isn’t super high, I guess, but their shop offers benefits and a retirement plan.”
“No prestige?”
“No. Is that an issue?”
“Far from it. It’s just a local bake shop, yes?”
“Right. I mean, it’s very popular. They have more customers than they can handle. They have a waitlist.”
“Mm hmm. I see. I am interested. I am not looking for prestige or accolades. I just want to make pretty things that taste good.”
“Awesome. I think you’ll love it. They are really good people there. Briar is my boss’s husband, and he’s really talented and sweet.”
“Wonderful. Lucien mentioned LGBT friendly?”
“Oh yeah. Everyone in the shop is queer, pretty much. My shop too. It’s a very inclusive, diverse area. You won’t have issues with that.”
“It sounds too good to be true.”
“It’s all true. How are you?”
“I am so happy to be home. France, even though I was born there, spent the beginning of my life there, still never felt quite like home.”
“Well you’re here now. Are you up for grabbing dinner soon?”
I swear all the blood drains from my body. “What?”
“Dinner. It’s a meal typically eaten in the evenings. Sometimes you do it with other people. You want to?”
My leg bounces on the bed. “Yes.” It’s the only word I can get out.
“Cool. What about tomorrow? I don’t work on Thursdays.”
“Perfect.”
“Awesome. Where are you staying?”
“Parents. I thought I would just crash here, spend a bit of time with them, then start looking for a place. I was thinking of roommates, if only to have company, but at nearly thirty, that doesn’t sound palatable.”
Apollo chuckles. “No. I could show you some cool parts of town. A lot has changed since you left.”
“I imagine so. I’ve changed too.”
“I would hope so in ten years. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
He means as a friend. Just a friend.
“Me too.”
“Cool. Text me your parents’ address. I’ll come get you. I’ll text you Briar’s info too. Call him soon. He desperately needs you.”
“Thank you so much, Apollo. It’s nice to feel like I have a friend here.”
“You definitely have a friend. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
After we hang up, I exhale slowly. Managing a crush on my brother’s best friend isn’t new to me. I’ve been dealing with this since I first met him when I was all of fourteen-years-old.
I still remember the last time I saw him in person. He came with my entire family to send me off to Paris. He gave me a silly purple beret as a going away gift, and I still have that damn thing all these years later. When I would get homesick, I would pull it out, along with my brother’s gift of a tiny American flag, Claudia’s gift of a plush croissant, and the family picture from my high school graduation.
When Lucien and Apollo called me on video chat on my twenty-first birthday, it filled me with joy, but did nothing to squelch the burning crush. Every guy I’ve dated since hasn’t stood a chance while the memory of Apollo still lingered. I tried, but I never found the guy in France who could handle all of me.
My phone buzzes. A text from Apollo with Briar’s info. I reply with my parents’ address, explaining it’s the same place it always was.
Tomorrow night, I’ll be facing my lifelong crush. I need to remind myself that I am a grown man now. Apollo is not an option. Even if he was into guys, being Lucien’s best friend is another strike. I squeeze my eyes shut. Apollo is not an option. I’ll repeat it as many times as it takes my thick head to get it.
With another deep breath, I peel my eyes open, ready to call Briar before the jet lag takes hold. I’m ready for a hot shower, my maman’s cooking, and a long sleep, but first, I need to secure employment. It will go a long way in helping me feel like I’m home again.
I dial the number Apollo texted me and wait for someone to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this Briar?”
“It is. Who’s this?”
“Felix Marchand. I’m a…friend of Apollo.”
“Hi.” I can hear the smile in his voice, instantly calming my nerves. “Thank you for calling.”
“My pleasure. I understand you may have an opening?”
“Yes. Apollo said you do chocolate and sugar work?”
I’m surprised for a moment, but Lucien must have told him. “Yes. I have a portfolio. I do French desserts as well, but I am well known for my sugar and chocolate work. Well, in France. No one knows me here.”
“Right. Um, about that. Is that something you’re interested in? Being well-known?”
“No. In fact, Apollo said it’s a local store. Popular, but…” I pause. “I just want to bake, Briar. I want to make beautiful things. I want to delight palates and wow them with beauty. I don’t need anyone to know my name.”
He audibly exhales. “Great. We are a local bakery. We get on the news sometimes, but that’s it. We represent the Dulce Santo brand, so anyone looking to build their own following wouldn’t fit here.”
“I’ve spent the last decade in France, working myself to the edge because it is so competitive. It is the only way to get and keep a good job, but I am done. I left to come back home for a simpler life. I am a hard worker. I can work for hours on a cake, and I will never complain. I don’t want a promotion or more responsibility or to be the executive pastry chef. I want to bake. That is all.”